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1
LYNDI
Adjusting my camera bag over my shoulder, I approached Starlight Manor, ready to capture the big day for a happy couple. Ortwo, actually. The first wedding was a brunch affair—which I didn’t even know was a thing—and the second would be a traditional evening event under the stars near the venue’s gorgeous private pond.
Starlight Manor was the kind of place that enveloped a wedding in magic, making what was otherwise a lovely event feel like it had been pulled off the pages of a timeless classic.
And it was more than just the setting. It was the talented wedding planner who put it all together. My friend Aria was a magician in Manolos. Taste and class and elegance were so ingrained in her that she couldn’t help but layer them over every wedding, right on top of a foundation of small-town charm.
In short, weddings at Starlight were a photographer’s dream. My fingers tingled with the urge to take out my camera and zero in on little details in the floral arrangements on the meticulously decorated tables. Or the laugh lines on the faces of the bride’s parents as they gazed lovingly at their little girl with the shimmering pond in the background. Maybe even the unshed tears of a lonely guest sitting under the wide oak tree, wondering if she’d ever find a man who would promise to spend forever with her.
I wouldn’t include the photos from the last example in the bride’s wedding gallery, of course. But moments like that were hard to miss in my line of work, and there was something about the raw emotions sparked by weddings that begged to be photographed. They tugged at me, kneading my own lonely heart to a pulp with their intensity.
As a general rule, deep emotions were confusing for me. On the outside, I liked to keep things light and cheery. I was the one who wore my heart on my sleeve and was always down for a hug. In a way, it was almost like a cover for how I felt on the inside. I always seemed to feel my deeper feelings a little too hard. In a suffocating way, making me want to wrangle them or tuck them away.
So, while I appeared sunny and warm on the outside, internally, things were a lot more tumultuous up in here. It was hard to constantly feel like I was at war with myself when it came to things my older sister seemed to do so easily, like getting along with others or feeling at home in a crowd.
But behind the camera? It was almost freeing the way I could capture emotion with the click of my shutter and then feel at peace knowing someone had acknowledged how simple and pure it was. It brought me comfort in a world where I felt like an outsider. Photography gave me a reason tobean outsider that would make sense to everyone else.
As I approached the main house, I grinned at Aria where she stood near the front steps with our town’s most-beloved, meddling, busybody of a florist. Ms. Hattie put a hand on Aria’s baby bump, bending slightly to talk to him or her.
Aria was due in about five weeks, and even though the baby obviously belonged to her and her husband, Ms. Hattie loved to refer to their child as “our baby.” As in,the whole dang town’sbaby. Because in Ms. Hattie’s head, we were all one big family, and we all belonged to her.
“Morning ladies,” I said in a singsong voice as I approached, giving Aria a one-armed hug against her side.
Ms. Hattie straightened and beamed at me, looking lit up from the inside in her pink Bluffton Blooms polo. “Lyndi, how are you, dear?”
“Great, thanks.” I patted my camera bag. “Ready for an awesome weekend.”
“Yes, it’ll be a busy one,” Ms. Hattie agreed. “We haven’t had three weddings in one weekend in forever. Not counting Fridays, of course.”
Aria put her hands on the top of her bump and sighed heavily. “I know, but we also haven’t had a weddingbrunchbefore, and I didn’t have this little one on the way when they all booked their dates, so I had no reason not to take advantage of a triple-wedding weekend. It sounded so exciting at the time.”
I took in her creased brow and the way she worried her lip between her teeth. Aria Paxton was the epitome of a workaholic. She lived in a cottage on the grounds of this very estate, and when she wasn’t in her office on the main floor planning events for the B&B her parents owned, she was bustling around the grounds overseeing one.
I didn’t know this for sure, but I had a sneaking suspicion Aria even worked while she slept. If anyone could manage that, she could. But now, she was a little over a month away from being a first-time mother, and while I had no idea what that was truly like since I wasn’t one, I felt the urge to help ease the transition.
Maybe it would help if she slowed down now. Like doing less over the next five weeks might help make it not so jarring when she had the baby and it had to be a full stop for a while.
Reaching out and taking the tops of her arms in my hands, I turned her to face me. “Hey, there’s no shame in a little delegation, remember? We all know you’re the world’s best wedding planner. You don’t need to bust your butt all the way up to your due date, do you?”
Aria chuckled. “I don’t know how to relax, Lyn. You know me. If I weren’t here working, I’d be crawling up the walls.”
“Ha, not in your condition, you wouldn’t,” Ms. Hattie teased with a wink. “Lyndi’s right. Maybe you should pass some things off to the staff and rest during the brunch wedding, then come back later for the evening one.”
Ms. Hattie clearly approached the subject from a health standpoint, which hadn’t occurred to me. I only knew my friend’s drive and wanted her to take her foot off the gas a little in preparation for traffic. But I supposed keeping her from overdoing it so she didn’t work herself into an early labor was important too.
Shaking her head, Aria reached up and removed my hands from her arms, giving them a squeeze before dropping them. “You guys, I’m fine. Besides, it’s too late to get anyone up to speed on this weekend’s events, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll get some help for the rest of them.”
Ms. Hattie and I shared a look. Aria’s tired eyes said a whole lot more than her words did, but I sighed, relenting. “Fine. Just please let me know if I can help with anything. If I’m not actively taking photos, I’ll do whatever I can to lighten your load.”
It was the least I could do. When Aria had taken over event coordinating at Starlight, she’d hired me immediately to be their main photographer. My hobby of taking photos of people having fun instead of actually joining them quickly morphed into a lucrative career thanks to the success of her endeavor, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes telling me she meant it. “But listen, I have to get back to it. The wedding party will be here soon, and I need to make sure everything is in order.”
This morning’s wedding was nontraditional in a few ways. The bride and groom were renewing their vows, so they planned to show up together, already ready for their quick ceremony and the lavish brunch that followed. Which meant I hadn’t needed to be here hours early so I could take candid photos in the bridal suite.
And thank goodness for that, considering the doozy of a wedding that would follow this one. There were twelve bridesmaids.Twelve. I couldn’t imagine having that many women in my life who were so important I’d want them next to me on my wedding day. I liked to keep my circle small, and thankfully, my sister Layla and our two best friends loved me, quirks and all.
